TOW The Central Perk Receipt
by theravenclawquill
Summary: Being forced to attend a simple company retreat together results in way more than either Rachel or Chandler bargained for. Undiscovered feelings, new discoveries... what else? Randler. CxR
1. Epee

**(A/N) **Arg, I know I've been in the middle of two fics for a while, but I recently fell back into a phase I had gone through previously: Rachel and Chandler. It's been so long, I've forgotten how obsessed I used to be with them. I blame long semester-system college summers and my recent acquisition of all 10 Friends Season DVDs, heehee. Had to get the storyline onto paper - or e-paper, whatevs - before it faded. Takes place in Season 9 - soon after Chandler and Monica marry and Rachel has Emma. It's all Randler; sorry, Mondler fans. :( Hope everyone enjoys, regardless!

* * *

_Four letter word for 'fencing sword'_, Chandler Bing pondered, squinting at the crossword puzzle in his newspaper. _Starts with E… I know this… _He squeezed his eyes shut, as if willing the word to materialize behind his eyelids. _This word is on the daily crossword at least once a month. It's like the menstrual cycle of the daily crosswords. So why can't I remember it? Agh, it's on the tip of my tongue. Ep…_

The door to Central Perk banged open. "Guys! Guys, guys, guys," Rachel Green, in a short white trench coat and, shuffled over – practically ran, really – to their usual couch. "Guys!"

"Damn it!" Chandler cursed, as Rachel's loud interruption caused the word to slip through his cranial grasp. All five friends turned to stare inquisitively at him, including a surprised Rachel. She had been on the verge of sharing some apparently exciting piece of news with them, but currently was standing with her right arm outstretched and cherry lips parted in a small 'O'.

Chandler sat there, frozen for a second or two, then stammered, "I mean, damn it, Rach, you just look fantastic today!"

She regarded her outfit briefly before shaking her head and continuing, "Anyway, so who wants to come to a really exciting company retreat with me tomorrow afternoon?" She clapped her hands and supplied a radiant beam.

Immediately, there was a round of unenthusiastic and evasive responses.

"Oh, come on!" Rachel snapped. "Tomorrow's Saturday!"

"Sorry, Rach," Ross replied. "I have to run – um, a review session for that class that has that exam coming up."

"Me too," Monica piped up. "The restaurant has a private event tomorrow that I have to cook for…"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Rachel huffed, brushing some blond strands out of her face. "What about you, Chandler? There can't possibly be any emergency at your job, can there? No advertisements that desperately need to be analyzed or something?"

Chandler was tempted to remind her that she still couldn't even name his job, but he decided that that ship had already sailed. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to find a believable excuse.

"Unfortunately, that _is_ true," he sighed, looking resigned.

"Yay!" she squeaked, grinning. "Thank you." She turned to Phoebe and Joey. "What about you guys? I mean, you both only work like two days a month, so you must be free, right?"

"I can't," Phoebe shook her head. "It's the anniversary of my mom's death tomorrow, so Frank and I are going to go over to Ursula's to try to persuade her to film a memorial documentary with us. Like we do every year."

"Oh," Rachel responded, taken aback. "Well, I'm sorry, Pheebs."

"Eh, it's whatever." She smiled and waved a hand dismissively.

"What about you, Joey?"

Joey swallowed his bite of scone. "Sorry, Rach, no can do. I have a date."

"Ugh, Joey!" Rachel stomped a foot lightly. "You can have a date any time. But you'll only have one chance to go on this exciting retreat with me… an all day picnic in Central Park. You know, we're going to have trust games and gifts. Oh, and free food!"

Joey's eyes widened. "Free food?"

"Oh _yeah_," Rachel nodded fervently. "Turkey sandwiches as far as the eye can see…" She drifted off expectantly.

Joey seemed to think for a while before looking tortured and responding, "I really want to, Rach, but I can't. This girl is amazing. Like, amazing enough to give up turkey sandwiches for. And that's pretty amazing. She's different."

"You mean this one graduated high school?" Chandler quipped.

"Hey, hey!" Joey pointed a warning finger. "Watch it."

"So she did?"

"Well, I didn't say _that_."

"Okay, okay!" Rachel waved her hands to silence the side conversation. "So none of you can make it except for Chandler?"

A round of guilty mutters went through the group.

The situation suddenly dawned on Chandler. "Well, wait, hold on," he stammered, waving his hands quite frantically. "If I'm the only one that's going, I don't want to go!"

Rachel pursed her lips to the left and folded her arms. "Why is that?"

Chandler froze again. "Uh…" His eyes darted from side to side.

"You can't hang out with me unless someone else is with us?"

"Um, no." He was, once again, caught in an awkward moment. _How do I get myself into these stupid scenarios? I hate myself. _"I mean, I'll be there?"

Rachel smiled thinly. "Good answer."

Chandler returned the thin, mirthless smile and stared back down at his crossword. _Gah, what did I just walk into? An all-day picnic with Rachel. _The idea filled him with awkward dread. It wasn't that he didn't like Rachel; in fact, that couldn't be farther from the truth. He loved her; she was a great friend. It was just that, he often felt like he and Rachel didn't have as close a relationship as some other pairs in their group had. Now that he thought about it, throughout the nine years he'd known Rachel, they'd never spent more than a couple of hours together – just the two of them, that is, with no other friends around. And now a whole day? As much as he adored Rachel as a friend, the very idea frightened him.

Apparently, Rachel was thinking the same thing. She stepped over Phoebe's feet and plopped onto the couch next to Chandler. The left side of his body became flush against hers – her stockinged legs against his neat, pleated trousers, and her arms crossing his as she leaned over to squeeze his hands. Chandler turned to see her, a few wispy blond bangs falling in her face, smiling eagerly at him.

"Oh," she sighed happily, rubbing Chandler's hands between hers. "This is going to be just great. It's never just the two of us hanging out! We're going to have so much fun, right, Chandler?"

Chandler forced himself to smile, though he was far more concentrated on Rachel's warm skin on his and how her black pencil skirt seemed to riding dangerously high over her thighs. "Yep," he agreed absentmindedly, tilting his head slightly to, uh, assess the damage her skirt was doing.

Monica noticed first. "Chandler!" she scoffed, slapping the back of his head. "Stop looking up Rachel's skirt!"

"What, wh-what?" Chandler sputtered, trying to recover. "I was doing no such thing!"

Rachel let go of Chandler's hands immediately and stood up, scoffing. "God, Chandler. If I wasn't so desperate for my coworkers to think I had friends, I would totally uninvite you to retreat tomorrow." She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "All right, everyone, I'm going to head off now. Chandler, I'll be ready tomorrow at eleven, okay?"

"Okay!" he answered, a bit too quickly.

"And maybe wear long pants or something," Monica supplied helpfully, while shooting Chandler a glare.

The gang said their goodbyes, and Rachel departed into the New York evening.

Everyone turned to stare accusatorily at Chandler. He stared sheepishly back. "Well," he broke the silence awkwardly, "if anyone cares, I just recalled – a four letter word for fencing sword is epee."

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave a comment/question/review... they make me very happy and motivate me! Thanks for reading; I'll update soon. (:


	2. Trust Game

(A/N) Yay, two updates in two days! This is due to the fact that I felt bad; after I reread this chapter, I realized it was one of those "filler", "plot-advancer" type chapters that I dislike writing, heh. But I actually enjoyed writing it! I hope you guys enjoy it, too. Big thank you's to BluEyes, say what now, friendsfan101, and BundyShoes for the kind, motivating reviews! :) Didn't know there were so many enthused Randler fans out there. Haha, makes me happy! Thanks again. :) On to the chapter!

* * *

Saturday afternoon found Rachel and Chandler standing in Central Park, at the Ralph Lauren Employee Retreat (or rather, as the banner nearby sorely overstated, "Employee Extravanganza"). They were listening to a droopy-looking man with a clipboard describe the trust game they were supposed to be playing – which apparently involved two groups of employees having to find a way to transport each member of their group over a piece of string tied to a tree, about four feet off the ground.

"The first team to get all their players on the other side of their string without touching it wins," the man finished.

Chandler stared disbelievingly at the string, then back at the man. "Uh, excuse me," he raised a hand.

At his side, Rachel slowly buried her face in her hands. "Oh God, here we go…" she muttered.

The man directed his gaze at Chandler. "Yes?"

"I don't understand."

"Well, the rules are quite simple – "

"No, no, I understand the rules," Chandler interrupted. "I'm just a little fuzzy on the whole concept, in general. Like, what lesson is this supposed to be teaching? How to fatally injure a group of adults in an game more fit for people about twenty years younger than us? Because if it is, this is a _perfect_ choice of activity."

Droopy Man looked taken aback. "Well, uh, it's supposed to teach us to trust, um, our fellow employees to carry us to success…"

"You know what?" Rachel piped up, one hand still on her forehead. "It's okay, Jack. Really. You don't have to explain." She managed a thin smile. "See, my pal Chandler here has this problem where he becomes rude around men he's intimidated by."

Chandler made a noise to protest, but was immediately silenced by Rachel's stiletto heel jamming into his left toe.

Jack smiled, looking pleased with himself for a second before replying, "Oh. It's okay."

Chandler gave a mocking grin, then glared at Rachel. She smiled back and patted him lightly on the back. "It's okay, honey," she cooed.

He would've retorted, but at that moment, they were interrupted by Jack's shrill whistle. The game had begun.

"Okay, team!" a thin brunette woman on Rachel and Chandler's team immediately yelled, clapping to make herself heard. "Now! I have a plan to beat the other guys, and it's a great plan!"

"Oh my God. Monica?" Chandler joked. Rachel chuckled.

The woman, luckily, didn't hear, but kept yelling instructions at the group. Apparently, her idea was for two people to lift one person at a time over the string, where one person on the other side would be waiting to carry him to the ground.

"That sounds like a great plan," Chandler said loudly. Everyone turned to stare at him. "However, I see some major faults."

The woman looked slightly defensive as she crossed her arms. "And what faults would those be?"

"How are the last two people going to get over?"

The group fell silent as they realized the qualm.

The woman waved a dismissive hand. "Well…" she started uncertainly. "I guess they'll just have to jump. You can jump over the string, can't you?"

Chandler raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you mean the string tied four feet off the ground?" he asked, sarcastically. "Of course, seeing as I was _quite_ the pole vaulter back in high school."

Unfortunately, the Ralph Lauren employees didn't seem too quick with the sarcasm. "Great!" the woman chirped. "So it's decided. Rachel's friend will jump last." She moved on, and the group broke out in conversation before Chandler could even make a noise of protest.

As the first people began being lifted over the string, Chandler grabbed Rachel's shoulder frantically. "Rachel!" he hissed. "There's no way I can jump over that. I'm going to break my neck! You have to tell them I can't do it."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel furrowed her brows. "You're the one who was a pole vaulter in high school."

Chandler exhaled in disbelief.

But before Chandler could make a joke at her expense, Rachel was grabbed into the group and pushed towards the two people with outstretched arms.

"Wait, wait!" Rachel cried, slipping off her stilettos. "I can't possibly jump with these on. Chandler, can you jump over with them for me?" She stuffed the shoes into Chandler's arms and turned to climb.

"Sure, why not?" Chandler muttered to no one in particular. "What's a couple of sharp stilettos stabbing into my sternum when I'm going to have 33 broken bones anyway?"

Cheers broke out as a flustered Rachel was roughly transferred to the other side of the string. She grinned and brushed the dirt off her jacket.

"All right!" the woman in charge yelled. "Let's go, let's go! The other team has one more person over than us right now! I will not have us lose!"

_I should seriously give this lady Monica's number, _Chandler thought. _I wonder if she likes label makers too. _

Before long, the only two people left on the original side were Chandler and a small, lanky guy named Dave.

"All right," Dave said, turning to Chandler. "Can you crouch on the ground so I can climb over you and over into Larry's arms?"

Chandler paused. "Wow. Is that a line from Dad's show?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." Chandler sighed and began positioning himself in the grass. Dave stepped onto his shoulders and was quickly lifted over the string by the crowd on the other side. There were cheers, and then encouraging cheers for Chandler to jump. Soon, they were united in a rousing chant of "Jump! Jump!" (Except for the leader woman, after she realized that the other team was catching up. That was when she began screaming, "Hurry up! What are you waiting for? My arthritic cat could move faster than you are!")

_Charming, _Chandler thought acerbically, while contemplating simply turning on his heel and fleeing the scene. He caught Rachel's eye in the crowd. She was smiling and waving with such unabashed enthusiasm that he couldn't help smiling himself. _All right, fine. I'll do it. It's now or never. God help me. _

With a determined gleam in his eye, Chandler got a small running start and leapt towards the thin string. In the air, he noticed that all the arms that had been outstretched and prepared to catch him before he jumped had suddenly retreated back to their respective bodies.

_Well, this is going to hurt. _

* * *

_(_A/N) How was it? I hope you enjoyed it. Don't worry - Chandler won't be put through too much pain, haha. Feel free to leave a comment/review/question/anything! They are great motivational tools. :D Thanks for reading, and I'll update very soon!


	3. Show and Tell

(A/N) Wow, I'm updating really quickly for my standards! the readers of my other incomplete fics must be pissed (or wishful thinking? haha). Anyway, thank you to BluEyes, elizzabethavary, BundyShoes, and friendsfan101 for the kind reviews! :) Most of you have expressed excitement for upcoming chapters, and I really hope I don't disappoint. Thank you for the motivation; they make me super happy! :) Onwards!

* * *

"Oh, honey," Rachel's soothing voice came from out of the darkness. "Are you okay? Are you feeling better?"

Chandler opened his eyes slowly. He was lying in the soft Central Park grass, on a peach picnic blanket. He looked up to realize he was lying in Rachel's lap. The sun streamed onto her golden hair, so glossy it made his weakened eyes hurt. He grimaced.

"What's wrong?" Rachel placed a warm hand onto his forehead.

Chandler chuckled and slowly sat up, consciously aware of the burst of pain through multiple limbs and joints. "Thanks, Rach," he smiled crookedly, "but if I had just been dropped on my neck from four feet in the air, my sweaty forehead would probably not be the worst of my worries." He put a sore arm around his friend and squeezed her shoulder.

"Ugh, you're right," Rachel sighed, frustrated. "I'm sorry I'm so useless. If I would've caught you…"

"You and about six other people," Chandler said half-jokingly.

"Oh!" Rachel's hands flew to her ashamed face, and she buried her head in Chandler's chest. "I'm so sorry, Chandler. We could've killed you." She added as an afterthought, "And my shoes."

He smiled and stroked Rachel's soft hair comfortingly. "It's okay, I forgive you. Thanks for taking care of me."

She murmured something incomprehensible into his sweater.

Chandler smiled down at the top of Rachel's head, and then looked around the park. It really was a nice day out – a perfect New York afternoon. The sun was out (a rare treat for this time of year), a slight breeze was blowing, and the sky was cloudless and blue. It was apparently lunchtime at the retreat, as groups of employees were scattered across the grass, eating identical bag lunches provided by the Ralph Lauren execs.

And on this beautiful day in beautiful New York, Chandler had a beautiful woman wrapped in his arms. _Something is not right with this picture. _

It could be the fact that it wasn't every day he sat around embracing beautiful women in parks, Chandler mused. But more importantly, it could be how utterly comfortable and happy he felt at that moment, holding Rachel. _I mean, it's Rachel. _She wasn't supposed to feel so perfect, there, lying against him that it felt like they had previously been molded as one. She wasn't supposed to be so _warm _– Chandler felt as if he were grasping a puppy to his chest. _She's your wife's best friend. _The thought made him feel icky.

_Well, it's only biological!_ he insisted to himself, as he traced his thumb along Rachel's back in slow circles. _Men will simply always feel a biological attraction when a woman is in such close proximity to them. Getting married doesn't automatically erase those biological reactions. No, married men just learn to ignore them over time. Overlook them. Not act on them. _

Chandler's musings were interrupted by another one of Jack's shrill whistles, indicating the end of lunchtime and the beginning of another trust game.

"Ugh," Rachel grumbled, her voice vibrating against his sore chest. "God. I'm tired of trust games."

"Can't say I'm too fond of them right now either," Chandler deadpanned.

Rachel laughed and pushed herself off of Chandler with two well-placed palms. "Well, come on," she sighed, flicking the bangs out of her face and picking up her empty lunch bag. "Let's go see if this next game is a little less extreme for Ms. Chanandler Bong."

As it turned out, Rachel's prediction was correct; the next activity turned out to be much milder – a show and tell. Each employee was supposed to bring an item of importance to them – "to promote greater understanding of and foster personal bonds between your fellow coworkers," according to Droopy Jack.

They were all separated into about five different groups and seated into circles. Chandler duly noted that Droopy Jack was still their activity leader. When they were all seated, Chandler hissed in Rachel's ear, "You never told me we were supposed to bring anything!"

"I didn't know either," she hissed back, rummaging through her fringed side bag.

The middle-aged woman next to Rachel turned to them. "It was in the company newsletter." She was clutching a photo of a fat white cat in her arms.

"Oh, you know I don't read the company newsletters, Maureen!" Rachel snapped in exasperation.

Maureen looked a bit hurt as she muttered, "Don't know why I bother writing them…"

"Aha!" Rachel suddenly gasped, pulling out a pacifier from her bag. "Perfect! This represents Emma, and Emma is obviously very important to me… ha, in your face, Maureen!"

"That's not fair!" Chandler huffed, beginning to rummage through his own pockets. "I don't have a purse to look through… or a baby whose stuff I can steal!"

"Yeah, good luck with that, hon," Rachel replied inattentively, no longer invested in his search now that she had found something for herself.

Chandler pulled out the contents of his pocket and sifted quickly through them. The show and tell had started already, with a thin gay man across the circle who brought a large gaudy dragonfly brooch.

_Well, I have my wallet_, Chandler thought, thumbing through it. I _could say… money is important to me… because it buys stuff?_ He rolled his eyes. _My apartment keys… because my apartment is important. Lame. Oh hey, a condom. I guess this could symbolize Monica. _Another eye roll. _That would not go over well._ Suddenly, he paused his rummaging. _Wait. Perfect._

It wasn't long before the show-and-tell reached Rachel.

"Okay." She took a deep breath and gave the group a winning smile. "Hi. I'm Rachel Green, merchandising manager. Um, I brought along this - " She held up the plastic pacifier. Several women 'aw'-ed. "As some of you might know, I have a beautiful baby girl named Emma… and she's really important to me." Rachel's voice faltered a little, inciting more 'aw'-ing. Chandler placed a hand on her knee and squeezed.

Rachel cleared her throat. She continued, "Ten years ago, I could barely take care of myself. I was the baby – still living off of my parents. I didn't have a job. I'd never even done my own laundry before! And now, I'm responsible for this whole other living being… and the best part is, I actually feel competent. Like I've grown so much. And like I actually deserve to raise a child. I never thought I'd feel that way, and the feeling is… amazing." She smiled briefly and finished, "You can't even imagine loving something – someone – as much as you can until you look into your baby's eyes."

All the women employees in the circle sniffled and smiled; some nodded fiercely in ardent agreement. The men smiled awkwardly, trying to show the socially appropriate amount of emotion. The gay man with the dragonfly brooch dabbed at his eye.

Chandler watched Rachel, unable to avert his gaze. She was so radiant; she practically shined with pride and love. She turned and met his eyes. She smiled and squeezed his hand. He smiled back.

"That was lovely," Jack said flatly. "Thank you, Rachel. Next? Chandler, was it?"

Regretfully, Chandler looked away from Rachel and towards the group. "Well." He glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand. "I'd hate to follow that performance, but Rachel actually stole what I was going to say." He chuckled.

The group remained silent.

"Tough crowd. Okay, then." Chandler held up the piece of paper he had found in his wallet. "This is a receipt from Central Perk Coffeehouse." He turned briefly to meet Rachel's gaze before continuing,

"I can't even begin to describe how important this place is to me."

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! As always, everyone is welcome to leave comments/reviews/questions! I always smile when I see one in my email inbox :D Well, thanks for reading, and I'll update soon!


	4. London

(A/N) Hi all! Sorry for the late-ish update - I kind of struggled with this chapter, tbh. I had a hard time deciding the limits of Chandler and Rachel's relationship, mainly because Chandler's married here. I always thought Monica had the type of personality that could potentially drive a guy to find solace in someone more laid-back (like Rachel). But I wasn't sure how readers would take it. Then Champers' review gave me the confidence to move forward! haha, soo needless to say, I think I'm going to push the moral limits here, and the rest of the fic. Feel free to let me know what you guys think, too! :) Thank you to BluEyes, BundyShoes, elizzabethavary, Champers, and friendsfan101 for the reviews! They are very appreciated :)  
Also, apologies for the long chapter. That being said, I think it's turned out to be one of my favorites to write! Onwards :)

* * *

Three (mild) trust games and a raffle later, Rachel and Chandler were sitting together on a bench, watching people leave the retreat. Every so often, someone (usually someone who worked below Rachel) would stop by to say goodbye to her.

A petite blond walked over to Rachel, towing a bored techie-looking man in her wake. "Rachel!" she sighed upon reaching them, beaming. "So good to see you today."

Rachel smiled back, a smile that Chandler recognized as awkward. He was willing to bet that she had no idea who this girl was. "Hey…" Rachel laughed. "… you! It was good to see you too."

"I loved your speech about your baby." The girl placed a hand to her heart and squeezed the man at her side. "It was so sweet. I can only hope Dan and I will be so lucky as you one day!"

"Aw, that's so sweet. I'm sure you will be."

"Well, congratulations again to you and Chandler," she chirped, smiling at Chandler too. "I'll see you at work on Monday!"

She, with Dan, turned the corner and left, leaving a surprised and embarrassed Rachel and Chandler in her wake. They were silent for a long while.

"Heh," Rachel chuckled awkwardly, patting the arm that had been around her the whole time. "That was funny. She thought we were – "

"Hah, that it was us – I mean, that Emma is –"

"Yeah. Silly, huh?"

There was another long silence.

"So," Chandler started, "I liked what you said about Emma. It was really nice, Rach."

"Aw, thanks, sweetie," Rachel replied, rubbing his knee. "And what you said about Central Perk and how it changed your life – that was really nice too."

"Not bad for coming up with it on the spot, was it?"

Rachel laughed. Another employee approached them, and she chatted with him for a while before he departed.

"Hey, Rach?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember before Central Perk was… Central Perk?"

"Oh wow, yeah," Rachel replied slowly, furrowing her brows in thought. "Now that you mention it. Wasn't it like a bar or something? I remember stopping by with my girlfriends from Long Island once in, like, '93."

Chandler chuckled inwardly. He remembered that day. He had recognized Rachel at the table with two other snooty, squealing women – vaguely; he had only remembered that she was one of the friends of Ross' fat sister that he had made out with once in college.

He remembered thinking, as he eavesdropped (quite easily, as the three women had practically screamed every other word), about how well life had treated Rachel – she was engaged, she was rich, she was beautiful. _Oh God, how beautiful she was. _The kind of woman Chandler knew he could never have in a million years, but could only admire as he passed them in the streets.

Then he had overheard her lamenting about wanting one last fling. Okay, and Chandler would admit it – that day, he'd totally fantasized about being with her. He'd always thought she was beautiful; he'd always had a tiny crush on her. Who wouldn't have?

"Yeah, you know, it was right before I was going to marry Barry. Oh yeah! I actually ran into –" Rachel was still talking, but stopped mid-sentence. Her cheeks suddenly flamed.

Chandler's mouth curled into an amused smile. "You remember now, don't you?"

"Oh my God!" Rachel gave a short laugh, stopped, then continued laughing.

"Oh, ha-ha," Chandler laughed mockingly. "Sure, laugh it up, why don't you. '_I rejected poor, low self-esteemed Chandler!'_ I'm sure it was all very funny to you."

Rachel waved her hands, still laughing. "No, it's not that! I mean, I remember now that you were there with Monica; you were the guy who dropped the ball. But there's something else."

"Something else?"

"Oh God no, it's so embarrassing," she groaned, still grinning into her hands.

"Tell me," Chandler insisted, leaning in eagerly. "You know embarrassing moments are my forte." He paused. "Unfortunately."

"Okay, okay." Rachel took a deep breath and raised her eyebrows. "That night, when I was driving my girlfriends back, I missed my exit."

"Gee, a woman who's a bad driver?" Chandler quipped. "Color me shocked."

"Stop it." Rachel gave him a small smack and continued, "No, it was because…" She drew out the last word, as if hesitant to complete her sentence.

"Because?" he prompted.

"Because…" she continued, blushing, "I was thinking about you."

Chandler frowned. "I don't get it. What do you mean?"

"Well, if you want all the details –"

"Um, _obviously_."

"Okay!" Rachel exhaled. "Well, I… _entertained_ the fantasy of going back to the bar and finding you there. Where we would commence to, uh, well…"

"Oh spit it out, Green."

"Make out until our tongues were dry and fuck enough times in one night to make Joey's mouth drop."

At this, Chandler's eyebrows shot up so high that it felt like they jumped straight off his head. His heart rate increased about a hundredfold, thumping so hard that he was surprised Rachel couldn't see it. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was an unintelligible gurgle.

When he finally spoke, he scrunched up his face and sputtered - "Oh. My. _God_." (Much in the manner of his favorite horse-faced ex-girlfriend.)

Rachel laughed and threw her hands up in surrender. "Hey, you asked for it."

Chandler quickly regained his composure and wiped at the sweat that had formed at his temple. "I just can't – I can't believe…"

"Believe what?"

"… that you actually noticed me," Chandler blurted. "Because I wanted the same thing, but I didn't even think you knew I existed! Wow, what if you _had_ come back? What if we started -" He didn't finish. It was too weird to think about.

Rachel patted his knee and gave him a slight smirk. "It would be, like, the one that could've, could've been."

They let that sink in for a while in silence, before Chandler turned back to Rachel and persisted, "Okay, I know this is a moot point, but –"

"Hah, moo point," Rachel laughed under her breath, recalling something Joey once said.

"What?"

"Nothing. Sorry honey, go on."

"Anyway, this is a moot point," Chandler went on, "but do you think we could've ever, you know? If anything could've ever happened between us?" He paused and continued on earnestly, "Because you _know…_ that if I had _ever_ even gotten the slightest hint that you could've been interested in me… I would've. In a second."

"Oh!" Rachel looked at him and tsked sympathetically. "Chandler, why would you ever think I wouldn't be interested in you?"

Chandler held up a finger in mock thought. "Well, I believe the phrases 'not boyfriend material', 'just my goofy friend' and my favorite: 'With Chandler? Really?' were used by both Monica and Phoebe on multiple occasions. I think – you know, I _think _– that could've insinuated disinterest. Just taking a shot in the dark."

Rachel's wide hazel eyes were still locked on his face. "Yeah, I guess Monica and Phoebe said those things a lot." She took special care to place the slightest of emphases on the two names. "But I don't think I ever did. I mean, why would I? You've always been smart, funny, cute… you know." She waved a hand flippantly.

Chandler swallowed, stretching his mouth into a thin line. _What was going on here?_ This was too much for him to handle right now – even if 'handle' _was_ the middle of his first name._ For God's sake, Bing, lighten the mood already!_

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, you _were_ also the one who had that dream where we had amazing sex on the table of Central Perk, weren't you?"

Rachel broke into a smile. "O-ho," she chortled thickly. "Oh yeah…" She trailed off, smiling quite dreamily into space. "God… that was _so_ good."

"Well." Chandler smirked cockily. "What can I say? Wait. Was I better in that fantasy, or your first one?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Well… we did different things."

"All right, Dream-Chandler!" Chandler joked, holding out one hand for his other one to high-five.

When the laughter had subsided, Chandler found himself unable to think about anything else but this recent discovery, as well as unwilling to let it go. He exhaled deeply, "Wow. I just can't believe you wanted it as much as I did."

"Yeah." Rachel shook her head lightly. "It doesn't matter now, though. You're married to my best friend, and I have a baby with your best friend…" She sighed. "Wow. Who would've thought, huh?"

And just like that, the air between them slowly returned from one laden with charged lust to one of friendly love. Rachel snuggled up to her goofy friend Chandler, and he put a protective arm around her. With the other hand, he tenderly brushed the hair out of her face. Then, without thinking, he rested his chin on her head. Her hair smelled of coconut.

They sat there until all the employees had gone, and the sun was beginning to move over the lake. Once again, Chandler found himself aware of how peaceful he felt when he was holding Rachel. _How perfect. _He had realized this in the past, of course, on the couple of occasions where he had hugged her on his barca lounger, on the Central Perk couch, or while consoling her about something. But he had always shaken off any feelings he may have had, disregarding them as flukes. After all, he had been in other relationships then! He couldn't be having those kinds of feelings for someone who wasn't his girlfriend.

And Chandler had even kissed Rachel a few times – once in college, of course (though intoxicated Rachel probably didn't remember), and a couple of times as cover-ups when he was hiding his relationship with Monica. He couldn't remember if he had felt anything – the former being that he was too young and drunk to remember, and the latter being that he had always been too jittery and panicky to remember.

He felt his heart rate start to pick up. His mouth felt dry. "Hey, Rach?"

"Yeah?" She shifted slightly to look at him.

And when she did, Chandler didn't think. He just _did _it. Only a split second pause existed between Rachel's lips against the New York air and her lips against his.

It wasn't urgent, it wasn't heated. It was soft. Innocent. Chandler wrapped an arm around the bend of her waist and squeezed. Lightly. The whole thing didn't last very long; just long enough for Chandler to feel Rachel return the favor, then immediately freeze and pull away.

It seemed like a lifetime as Rachel stared at Chandler with wide, shocked hazel eyes. Then, as if the realization just hit her, she cried, "Oh my God. Oh my God, no, no, no…" and buried her face in her hands.

Chandler sat back in his seat, heart pounding. "Well, can't say that's the first time someone's responded like that after I've kissed them."

He snuck a glance at Rachel, who evidently was not affected by his attempt at a joke. She was still sitting there with her head in her hands and muttering to herself. Chandler was getting concerned.

"Hey," he joked again, trying out something from their shared past. "What's the matter? I'm in college. I'm in a band."

Nothing.

"That worked on you last time -"

"How can you just keep joking about this?" Rachel cut him off, looking furious. "You're married. You just kissed your wife's best friend." She spoke each word with such fierce, disjointed intensity that there might as well have been periods between each.

Chandler forced himself to look dismayed, hoping his frantically beating heart wouldn't belie his true feelings. And those feelings – the result of kissing Rachel? Amazing. "It was just a kiss, Rach. Just a friendly thing, I promise."

"You don't _French_ your friends."

"I'm trying out this European thing."

"Stop it!" Rachel swatted at the air in frustration. "Just stop joking, Chandler! Just stop it." She slumped into her hands. When she finally spoke again, it was with a calmer, quieter voice. "I'm sorry." She exhaled deeply. "I overreacted. You're right. I think I just freaked out a bit because –"

"Because?"

"It's nothing. I just freaked out. That's all."

Chandler fell silent, knowing (for some reason, he knew) that Rachel had been momentarily freaked out because she had wanted it just as much as he had. And Rachel fell silent, knowing that her anger had been a preemptive lash to hide what she was currently feeling. And those feelings? It was a jumble of confusing emotions, but she could pin a word to it. Amazing.

It couldn't be amazing though, as the both of them knew. It was wrong. Immoral. Cruel. _Forbidden. _Of course, thinking this way only served to make the air between them even more electrified.

Chandler cleared his throat. "You know, uh, Monica and I had this thing. A rule." Without realizing it, he squeezed his eyes shut. Even speaking Monica's name while he was feeling all of this _stuff _for Rachel… it made him feel horrible. Like the worst guy on Earth. No, worse. _Like the scum growing in the dark crevasses of the ocean._

"A rule?"

"In London. We said that, well, what happens in other countries just… doesn't count."

Rachel gave him a look of disbelief before snorting mirthlessly, "Well, uh, I don't know if they've redrawn country borders in the last few hours, but the only way we're home free is if they've moved Canada to Sixth Avenue."

Chandler grinned boyishly. "Now I don't know about that." He shifted in his seat, nudged Rachel, and gestured to a man in a beret to their left. "See that guy? That beret?" He made a sweeping motion with his arms to accompany his sweeping generalization – "_obviously_ French."

In spite of herself, Rachel laughed. "Obviously."

"Oui. See? We very well could be in France. God knows there're enough assholes around here for it to seem like it." He nudged her again, excitedly. "Now what about those two girls over there? The leggy blondes?"

""Sweden."" Rachel and Chandler said simultaneously, causing them to stop and laugh. It felt nice, Chandler thought, just laughing with her again.

Rachel seemed significantly more upbeat now. "And you know," she joined in, pointing in the direction of an Asian man with a Hispanic-looking woman, "that's really just killing two birds with one stone."

They laughed, and the heady air that had hung between them dissipated. There they sat for a little longer, watching the sun prepare to move beneath the horizon.

"Chandler?" Rachel spoke as if she knew she was going to regret it.

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth, I wish I had gone back. To the bar that night. To you." She swallowed almost imperceptibly. And, not trusting himself with what could possibly happen, Chandler let it stay at that.

Either way, they both realized why they had never hung out alone before – they were free to tread dangerous territory when no other friends were around to interrupt.

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. Like I said, I was nervous about this one! Feel free to leave a comment/review/question/anything! Thanks for reading, and I will update soon :) :)


	5. Time Bomb

(A/N) Okay, first off - can I just say how awesome my reviewers are? You all have been so kind and motivating, really! Each review I read gives me an idea for the next chapter, then it kind of snowballs into a plot from there. So I really can't thank you guys enough for being so nice :) Thank yous to elizzabethavary, friendsfan101, BluEyes (thanks so much! haha, your words make me feel like your protege or something - which is pretty much an honor, seeing as your fics are some of my all-time favorites!), missdory, Champers, say what now, Laurie M, and BundyShoes!

Now some words about the chapter - towards the end, you'll see that the plot's heading in the direction of the season 9 finale. And a big blemish on the face of Season 9's end (imo, haha), was Rachel/Joey. I love both of them, but not together, you know? Haha. I always wished it was Chandler in Joey's place :) Anyways, onwardssss!

* * *

Neither Rachel nor Chandler broached the topic of what had happened in Central Park when they returned back to reality. For the next few weeks, they went back to being the friends of the friends who happened to be a couple, the friends on opposite sides of the armchair couch.

That wasn't to say that they flat out forgot about The Incident. It had happened, despite all they did to treat it like it hadn't. That meant, they still smiled sheepishly when they brushed past each other in a given apartment, still gave appreciative looks when the other was wearing a sharp tie or schoolgirl skirt, still exchanged loaded glances whenever Monica would kiss or hug Chandler in front of the group. Was it guilt? Regret? Something else entirely?

They didn't have time to think about it, in any case, as Chandler and Monica soon had their own troubles to deal with. The doctor had called with the news about their fertility problems just a few days ago. This tragedy dealt a huge blow to Chandler and Monica's relationship – knowing how badly Monica had wanted a child her entire life. As a result, Monica spent most of her days crying to herself or picking fights about the tiniest things with Chandler to hide her pain. And in characteristic Monica fashion, the latter occurred more often.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Chandler called bitterly into the room, before slamming the door shut and tossing his briefcase haphazardly onto the counter.

Ross, Joey, and Rachel looked up from the loungers where they had been watching TV.

"I hope you weren't assuming I'd be the only one home when you said that," Joey said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, or that you forgot which apartment you lived in," Ross added.

Chandler didn't respond, but only mumbled something and loosened his tie in frustration. Rachel climbed out of her chair and slowly walked to the counter. She rubbed Chandler's shoulder sympathetically. "Oh sweetie, is Mon still giving you a hard time?"

"Yeah," Chandler grumbled. "Get this – before I left for work this morning, she lectured me for seven straight minutes because my shoes weren't lined up. Seven! It was like listening to a monologue."

Rachel scrunched up her nose in thought. "Well, are you sure that means she's mad at you? I mean, it's probably just a Mon thing. She used to get mad at me when my shoes weren't in the closet too."

"That's the thing," he replied, waving his hands in exasperation. "Mine _were_ in the closet. She was mad because they weren't hanging on their hooks all perfectly straight!"

"Oh wow, okay," Rachel conceded.

"I know what you mean," Ross said, as Rachel returned to her chair. "When we were younger, Mon used to yell at me if I moved the Twinkies to the shelf below the Twix because they wouldn't be in alphabetical order."

Chandler nodded acerbically. "Yeah, that's _kind of _the same thing. Except for the part where she's unreasonably taking out on you because you can't help her fulfill the one dream she's had her entire life and help put life into her womb."

There was a silence, in which Ross looked slightly hurt, Rachel looked slightly awkward, and Joey looked slightly confused.

"I'm sorry." Chandler let out a deep sigh and walked over to drop onto the arm of Rachel's lounger. "I know I shouldn't be mad at you guys. It's just – this whole thing's been putting me on edge too."

"It's okay, honey." Rachel was the first to speak. She took his hand and gave it a reassuring pat. "Here, why don't you sit – " she stood up to give him her seat " - and just have a beer with the guys or something? You've had a long day. I'll have dinner with Mon tonight."

"Thanks, Rach," Chandler replied gratefully. "Why are you so great? You see, you're never high maintenance and anal and ... I don't know, shrilly and stuff. Why can't all women be like you?" He laughed, half-jokingly.

But at the same time, Chandler realized, he was half-serious. Every time he hung out with Rachel, there was always a comforting, laid-back sort of air about it. There were never any expectations to act a certain way, no predispositions towards certain attitudes, no stress. And he never had to walk around on eggshells, worrying if, at any given time, he would say or do something wrong to set off the female time bomb.

An objective bystander would probably throw their hands up in confusion and say that, if so, he was crazy for willingly wanting to be with Monica instead of Rachel. Chandler realized this. Sure. He did. He even agreed with them. But what he would also tell these people was that he loved Monica. And if you loved someone that much, it was easy to love their imperfections. If that made him crazy, then, so be it.

Rachel blushed and scoffed modestly. "Pft, no." She paused briefly to consider the compliment. "Okay, well, you know – I do ask myself that sometimes."

"Well, thanks." Chandler smiled and tugged Rachel towards him.

Surprisingly, Rachel (almost instinctively) froze and leapt off the chair. "What are you doing?" she asked, voice guarded.

Chandler gave her a strange look. "Giving you a hug." He spoke so hesitantly that his answer sounded like a question. "Uh, I mean – is that okay with you, Sister Green?"

Rachel laughed awkwardly. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, okay." She shook her head in confusion and laughed again. "I don't know – why I – okay." She relented with a nervous smile and took a step into Chandler's arms.

Chandler pulled her in, resting his chin on her shoulder. Slowly, he could feel himself calming down, the anxiety that had inhabited and burdened him that entire day melting away. Time passed imperceptibly – it could've been seconds, minutes, hours. He was almost aware of every bone moving in Rachel's back – from her delicate shoulder blade beneath his right hand to where her spine ended at the curve of her lower back, beneath his left. He felt her chest rise and fall with every breath she took. He felt lighter than he had felt all day. He felt relief. He felt right. He felt-

_- amazing. _

"Uh, dude?" came Joey's voice, sounding very far away. "You maybe want to save some hugs for Ross and I?"

Chandler let go of Rachel, blinking himself back into reality. There was a brief moment when he met Rachel's gaze, but he looked away immediately, not waiting long enough to gauge her reaction.

"Uh yeah, man. Come here," Chandler sputtered, walking over to both Joey and Ross and pulling them into their usual, rough man-hugs.

"Well, all right then," Rachel exhaled breathily, clasping her hands together. "I'm gonna go check on Mon, maybe buy some dinner for her. You guys are welcome to come over anytime."

"Eh." "Kay." "See ya."

The three men were already moving back into their respective seats, putting their feet up, and switching on the TV.

Two of them didn't even notice when Rachel left, shutting the door behind her.

"Beer?"

"Thanks." Chandler took the bottle from Joey's extended hand and took a long, deep swig. The cold liquid traveled down his throat, permeating his stomach and entire body. It felt comforting. Calming. But when it came down to it, cold beer was only cold beer – paling in comparison to how he had felt when hugging Rachel. _That was different. _

As Chandler took another gulp and felt the alcohol travel through him, he realized that all of that with Rachel – whatever '_that'_ was, anyway – had to stop. He had to nip this in the bud, and fast.

All of it was starting to get overwhelming.

* * *

"Oh! Aren't you guys just so excited for Barbados?" Phoebe asked excitedly, as she, Rachel, and Monica took their usual seats on the Central Perk couch. "I can't wait!"

"Eh," Rachel shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "I could do without Ross's special VIP pass to Dino Lecture Land, though. I mean, having to attend his speech is enough; did he really have to get us into _all _the lectures?"

"I agree! It should be less paleontology, more… you know, lay by the beach-ology."

Rachel and Phoebe chatted some more while flagging down Gunther for some drinks.

"Are you all right, Mon?" Rachel asked, leaning towards her concernedly. "You've been kind of quiet."

Monica managed a small smile and said quietly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just – I've decided that… well, I don't think I'm going to go to Barbados with you guys tomorrow."

"What?" Phoebe and Rachel both broke out in confused protest. "Why?" "Why, Mon?"

"I just – I don't feel like it's a good time." She looked down at her knees. "You know? Like I feel like I deserve some time to be appropriately mournful about all this. A vacation is too soon. I just don't feel like… being happy right now."

Phoebe opened her mouth to disagree, but Monica went on quickly, "Can you guys just respect my decision?" She smiled sadly. "That would be wonderful right now."

Rachel and Phoebe exchanged looks, and both smiled sympathetically at their heartbroken friend. "Oh honey, of course," Rachel insisted softly, embracing her. "Of course we can."

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! As always, everyone is welcome to comment/review/question! Thanks so much for reading, and I'll update soon! :)


	6. Barbados

(A/N) Hey all! Heads up, update-wise; my summer school course started (ugh, physics), so I have to move back to school for a while as well as get through this hideous subject - sooo updates may be a bit less frequent from here till the end (but not too infrequent - I'm thinking 4-5 days max!). Thank yous to friendsfan101, BundyShoes, missdory, elizzabethavary, BluEyes, and Laurie M for the kind reviews! You guys are awesome!

To answer a few question/concerns: Yep, Chandler is definitely not going to be plucked and placed into Joey's plotline... mainly cause Joey's plotline stank haha! You can tell I really hated the Rachel/Joey thing... And the fic has been just in Chandler's POV so I'm not going to change it now... but no worries! You will all definitely know how Rachel feels about all this very very soon ;) For now, onwards to Barbados! :)

* * *

"Wow," Rachel breathed, setting her overly large duffel bag onto the floor and taking in the sight of the Barbados hotel lobby. "This place is gorgeous!"

"I know!" Phoebe gushed at her side. "Oh, isn't this great, David?"

Her jittery, bespectacled scientist boyfriend nodded. "It is, it's fantastic. Shall I go check in for us?"

"Ooh, okay. Ask if they have one of those beds shaped like hearts!" She followed him. "Oh wait, and maybe mirrors on the ceilings!"

Joey, upon hearing this, turned excitedly to Charlie. "Did you hear that? Come on, let's go check in with Pheebs and them!" They followed after Phoebe like lovesick puppies.

Rachel folded her arms and smiled sadly, watching her excited paired-off friends. She sighed and reached down for her luggage.

"Hey." Chandler materialized at her side, shouldering his own black duffel bag.

"Oh, hey!" Rachel let go of her bag again to give Chandler's arm a comforting squeeze. "How you feeling? Holding up?"

"Eh."

"Oh, come on," Rachel persisted. "How can anyone stay down in a gorgeous place like this?" She made an attempt at a sweeping gesture.

Chandler managed a one-sided smile and a small shrug. "I just wish Mon were here to see it with us, you know?"

"Oh, I know, honey," Rachel tutted. "I know. I do, too." She extended an arm to offer him a hug.

_Crap. Another hug from Rachel would so not be the best thing for me right now. _"Y-yep!" Chandler all but jumped away from Rachel's inviting arms. "But I think I feel a little better now. You're right, this place is really, really pretty – uh, nice. Pretty nice."

Rachel shrugged off Chandler's antsy behavior. "Yeah." She groaned. "Ugh, but it's just such a romantic place. I just wish I could, you know, share it with someone."

"Yeah."

Thoughts (probably not altogether different) trickled through both Chandler and Rachel's minds. Awkward silence ensued.

"Okay, I'm gonna – "

"Yeah, so I'm – "

They both started, stopped, and laughed.

"You want to go check in?" Chandler extended a friendly elbow. Rachel hooked it with her own. She smiled.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

"Ugh, what is _with _the rain?" Rachel grumbled, grabbing what seemed to be her tenth piña colada off a waitress' tray. "Nobody said anything about it being monsoon season over here."

At the moment, she was sitting with Joey and Chandler in the hotel lobby, all three glumly aware of the fact that they were _indoors _in Barbados.

"I mean," she continued, "I bought a new swimsuit and everything, and I'm not even going to get the chance to use it!"

Joey sat a little straighter in his seat and grinned. "You could wear it in here."

Rachel shot him a glare, and Chandler offered him a fist bump for trying anyway.

"At least you didn't just completely _erase_ Ross' keynote speech off his laptop," Chandler said, wincing. "I feel so bad. I can't believe I destroyed all his hard work –"

"And ruined my date with Charlie!" Joey interjected.

"Oh yeah. You know, _almost_ the same level of devastating."

Luckily, at that moment, Charlie appeared, a huge beam on her face. "Hey!" she said ecstatically. "Can you believe it? Ross and I just finished rewriting the speech!"

"Oh hey, congrats!" Chandler practically danced in relief. "I'm so glad Ross won't have to 'open a can of whoop ass' on me anymore."

"I'm glad, too." Charlie nodded in recognition, then turned to Joey, "So did you want to go grab that dinner now?"

"Oh, uh…" Joey glanced at Chandler and Rachel guiltily.

Rachel waved her hands in dismissal. "No, oh yeah, go ahead, Joe! Don't worry about us, really. We'll find something to do."

"Yeah, don't worry," Chandler added, with a straight face. "Rachel's swimsuit and I will have tons of fun."

Joey and Charlie laughed and bid them goodbye, leaving for the restaurant hand-in-hand.

Rachel slumped back into her chair and sighed. "So what should we do now?" She perked up a bit as she reached for her fruity drink. "More piña coladas?"

Before the straw reached her lips, though, Chandler grabbed the glass out of her hands. "Here's an idea." He set the drink down on another table farther from Rachel. "What about you get something to eat that doesn't require a bendy straw?"

She made a noise of protest, but immediately turned her attention to a waiter carrying by a tray of mini quiches.

"Ooh, quiche. I love quiche." Rachel made a move to grab one.

"Sorry, miss," the young, peroxide-maned waiter apologized, swinging the tray away. "These are for the pharmaceutical convention."

"Uh, wha-, buh –" Rachel sputtered, watching his retreating back with disappointment. "Ugh!" she sat back in her chair. "I'd like my drink back now."

She reached for the glass, but Chandler slid it away from her outstretched hand. "I have a better idea. How do you feel like crashing a convention?"

* * *

Two hours and thirty all-you-can-eat snack trays later, Kate Miller and Mark Wright emerged from the Pharmaceutical Convention with fresh mai tai cocktails in hand.

"Well!" Rachel sighed, peeling off her Dr. Kate Miller nametag. "Who knew pharmacists could be this much fun?"

"My mother during divorce season," Chandler deadpanned. He peeled off Dr. Mark Wright's nametag and crumpled it into a ball before tossing it over his shoulder.

Rachel laughed and set her drink down on a mahogany cabinet they had just approached, in the back corner of the room. Chandler had a sudden overwhelming urge to tell her to use a coaster, but then he remembered who he was with.

_This isn't Monica. This is. Rachel. Different. _

"Well, this was a lot of fun," Rachel smiled and leaned against the wall. "Who says you need to be in love in Barbados? Notme."

"I don't know…" Chandler replied with a smirk, taking a step towards her. "That man you were talking to looked like he wanted to take you home with him."

"That big man in the sweater vest? Well, you know, he did have really nice – uh, breasts."

"Maybe you could have him wear your swim suit."

They laughed. Chandler was suddenly very aware at how close they were. His heart sped up as he noticed how smooth and soft Rachel's bronze shoulders looked. He'd always had a thing for bare shoulders.

_Stop it! _He mentally slapped himself before he could reach out, brush Rachel's golden strands out of the way and place his lips gently against her tan skin… _STOP. _He squeezed his eyes shut to destroy the images in his head.

Luckily, Rachel seemed unaware of what Chandler was thinking, as she continued obliviously, "You know, I can't decide if I'm buzzed or not."

Chandler chuckled. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Well, this one –" she paused to slurp the last of her mai tai before slamming it back down on the cupboard – "makes fifteen."

"Fifteen." Chandler thought about it. "Pretty impressive, but I hate to burst your bubble –they were totally undersized girly drinks."

Rachel scoffed. "They were hardly undersized!"

"They were, too. Buzzed after fifteen fruity drinks?" Chandler smirked. "Wuss."

"I'm sorry, did you just call me a wuss?"

"What are you going to do about it?"

"You get mani-pedis."

Chandler's mouth stretched into a line. "Really?" He sighed. "Can we go _one_ day – just one day – without bringing that up?"

"Oh I'm sorry, honey," she smiled, stepping even closer towards Chandler to fix the collar on his shirt. "You know you're always welcome to tag along with me when I go to the salon." She rested her hands behind his neck.

"You can admit you just like my company," he teased, eyes crinkling up into charming upside-down U's.

Rachel laughed, her voice so sweet it almost turned Chandler's stomach to listen. _Oh God, seriously? Flirting with Rachel? What am I, in sixth grade again? _It was innocent and harmless, but it didn't make Chandler feel any less of a jerk.

His eyes raked swiftly across Rachel's face, now so close to his own. He took in her wide eyes, her pink lips curled slightly upwards in a smile, her golden hair still glistening despite the humidity. Now his gaze was on her collarbone, her shoulders, the straps of her sundress just barely hanging on. He just had to lean in _very _slightly, and he'd be… _we'd be…_

"Nu-agh!" Chandler shook Rachel's arms off of his shoulders and leapt away before he could do something he would regret.

Clearing his throat and his mind, he took another large step backwards. Fresh air rushed through the now-open distance between their bodies; the electric charge between them, wiped clean.

_This seriously needs to stop. Now. _Chandler ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "Rach… I think we need to talk."

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! I know - their funwas a little short-lived... but don't worry - more fun to be had later on! ;) Feel free to leave a comment/review/question/etc! Thanks for reading; it means a lot! I'll update soon. :)


	7. Spring Fling

(A/N) Thank yous to missdory, BluEyes, Laurie M, friendsfan101, and Bundy Shoes for the encouraging words. You guys are great! I know I say it every chapter, but I mean it! :)  
So anyway, just as a heads-up, there's probably like 2-3 more chapters of this fic left. Don't want to spring the end upon you all on the last chapter, haha. I've written the second to last (needs revisions) already, and can I just say how nervous I am about the fic from here on out? Haha. Part of me thinks I'll be virtual-stoned by reviewers, but part of me wants to get it out there anyway. For now, onwards to more Barbados dramarama!

* * *

"Okay." Rachel shut the door to her hotel room behind her. "Why don't you tell me what's going on, Chandler. Because you're kind of freaking me out right now."

_You're telling me. _Chandler paced the room a couple of times before taking a seat on her bed. He folded his hands in his lap to avoid wringing them, but this only led to him nervously bouncing his right leg. Finally, he decided to just stand up.

"Okay," he sighed, exhaling so deeply that he actually felt his heart rate slow before he inhaled again. "See, the thing is… the thing. Here's the thing." _This is ridiculous! _he thought, in an attempt at bravery. _Just do it. She'll understand. She understood about the bar fantasy, right?_

Rachel raised her eyebrows in a gesture for him to continue.

"See, the thing is," he started over hesitantly, "lately… I've been having these… thoughts."

"Thoughts?"

"Thoughts." He nodded in confirmation. "Musings, if you will. Musings that aren't… good musings. Crazy musings."

"Huh." Rachel bit the side of her cheek in thought. "Okay…"

"And unless I've just been completely off my game since college, I'm pretty sure you've been having the same musings. About, you know. Us."

A long silence ensued, in which Rachel only stared at Chandler through narrowed eyes.

Five seconds passed, then ten. Twenty. Thirty. It was so quiet that you could've heard a pin drop.

Chandler was just starting to feel foolish for having brought it up when he saw a ray of realization flash through Rachel. Her eyes widened immediately, and her mouth dropped into a small 'o'.

"Wait. Wait." She squeezed her eyes shut, but her voice was calm. "Let me get this straight. Are you saying that… that you _like _me?"

"Yes, and I would like to ask you to the Spring Fling on Friday. Check Y for yes or N for no," Chandler quipped sarcastically.

But Rachel only ignored him, face still twisted in an unreadable expression. "How long?"

"Since the retreat, I guess."

Hearing this, Rachel groaned guiltily, "God, Chandler, is this because of the thing I told you? About the fantasy?"

"Maybe. I really don't know," he answered honestly, currently feeling like the world's biggest fool. "Look, first, let's not make a big thing out of this…"

"Big – thing?" she replied, suddenly angry. "Big thing? It's a huge thing!" She began pacing the room, occasionally placing a hand to her forehead. "What the hell are you doing?" She wheeled to face him, voice almost squeaking in her outburst. "Like, why - why? Why are you telling me this? And now?"

Chandler scrambled to his feet defensively. "I just wanted to get it out in the open! And hey, it's not like you were acting all innocent! What with all your –" he gestured wildly " – excessive hugging and - " he mimicked her voice " – _I wish I would've gone back to you_ garbage?" He let his arms fall to his side. "You must've felt it too, didn't you?"

Rachel was silent. Chandler could almost see the gears churning in her head. Finally, she responded evasively, "It doesn't matter what I feel. This? This can't happen."

Chandler sighed. "You think I don't know that? Look, Rach, I'm not here to tell you that I like you and that the ball's in your court or anything like that. I'm not asking you to keep this _thing, _whatever this is, going. Okay? I'm here to tell you I know it's wrong, and I want it to stop. I just want to know if you feel the same, and that I haven't been imagining this whole thing."

Rachel closed her eyes and sighed. She walked over and took a seat on the bed, signaling Chandler to do the same. When he did, she took his hand in hers. She seemed just as nervous as Chandler did earlier. "Okay," Rachel started, shakily. "I shouldn't have yelled. To be honest, I was just angry at you for bringing it up because… because I thought that if neither of us acknowledged it, it meant it wasn't true. But I was wrong. You're – you were right."

_You were right. _

Chandler's heart stopped. _I knew it. God, I knew it._

"Yeah." Her word came out in one sharp breath. "Of course I've noticed it. And it's not like I never thought about it – you know – us." She seemed to hear the blasphemy in her words, because she immediately continued with renewed resolve, "But I've felt horrible every time it's crossed my mind! I mean, I kept hoping it would just go away on its own, but-"

"Me too," Chandler sighed in relief, seizing upon her agreement like a lifesaver. "Me too. I hate myself for even thinking about it. I could never do it to Monica."

"Well, I guess –" Rachel stopped mid-sentence to offer a small smile. "I guess, maybe we should just try to stay apart for now. As long as we need. Until this all blows over."

Unexpected heat rose in Chandler's throat. He hadn't been expecting her to say this, much less expecting himself to react this way. "What?" he blurted, before he could stop himself. "No. That wasn't what I meant."_ Try something else. Anything else. Anything but being away from you. _

She didn't answer.

"Rach," he pleaded. "Say something. Please."

Rachel's mouth set into a determined, grim line. She looked down at her hands. "I think you should go now."

Chandler's heart sank into his stomach.

It took every ounce of strength and willpower for him to get to his feet and walk the two lengths into the hallway without looking back at Rachel. It killed him to do so, but Chandler knew he had to go before he got in even deeper.

He never wanted to kiss her as badly as he did in that moment when the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

It didn't take long for Chandler to feel immensely guilty about what he had just done. In fact, the more time that passed as he lay alone in his room, the more he spiraled into an inescapable blackness.

The conflicting feelings he'd been having for Rachel were enough. Sure, it was nothing more than natural attraction and a lust-based crush – but it was still wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. _Because you're __married_, Chandler reminded himself, having placed so much emphasis on the last word recently that it almost lost meaning. _Married. She's your wife's best friend. _Horribly, horribly wrong.

_Then why does it feel so horribly right? _

And then there was the other added hit to his morality. _Your wife just had her life's dream crushed, and instead of staying by her side to comfort her, you jet off to Barbados and spend the entire trip flirting with her best friend? Oh, God. _He hadn't realized how deplorable his actions had been until he had put it into words. It sounded like the story of some sleazy old businessman, not the story of goofy, good-guy Chandler Bing. Chandler Bing, who hadn't touched a girl until he was 19. Chandler, whose long-term girlfriends before Monica ranged from Janice to… well, Janice.

Sure –one part of him tried to reason – Monica _had _been the one to encourage him to go to Barbados without her to support Ross. And sure, if he were to have stayed, Monica would've most likely spent the whole time tense and nagging. Maybe some time apart was the best thing for both of them.

But – the other (larger) part of him retaliated – a good husband wouldn't care. He'd ignore his wife's well-intentioned protests and stay resolutely by her side, shrugging off her nagging arguments as a side effect of stress.

Chandler felt an ashamed heat in his throat as he thought about how much of a disappointment he was. _Of a husband. Of a person. _

And if that wasn't enough drama for one trip, Phoebe and Mike had just reunited and driven poor David out of the picture, and Charlie had broken up with Joey to go after Ross.

_God. _Chandler's head pounded with pent-up stress. _If there were any more drama here, I could submit footage to The Real World: Barbados._

"This vacation sucks," Chandler stated loudly, into the empty room.

"Tell me about it, man," came Joey's muffled voice from behind his headboard.

Chandler gave the thin wall between his room and Joey's a reassuring pat. The two glum friends sat in silence, back-to-back in adjoining rooms – mirrored images and mirrored expressions. It was a while before Chandler's gaze wandered to the window, where he noticed that, for the first time since he'd arrived there, it was not being pelted by heavy raindrops. It was dark out now, of course, but the night sky was a clear navy blue.

"Hey, Joe?"

"Yeah?"

Chandler felt more excited than he'd been in a long while. "Want to go down to the pool? It stopped raining. We could probably swim some midnight laps."

There was a long pause, followed by a dejected wail, "Aw man, Charlie and I were supposed to do that!"

_Whoops. _"Uh, alright, never mind, man," Chandler rectified, already pulling out his swim trunks from his duffel and dutifully ignoring the murderous muttering on Joey's side of the wall.

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! As always, feel free to leave me a comment/question/review/anything. Thank you for reading! I'll update ASAP. :)


	8. Sandals

(A/N) Whoo, we're gaining on the final chapters! It could go either way from here - some of you will probably not like the next few chapters, and some of you probably will. Here's hoping the latter is a larger majority! Haha. Well, the reviews I got a lot of great reviews/questions last chapter, so I thought I'd answer them one-by-one! Feel free to skip the thank you's right to the chapter if you'd like! :)

_elizzabeth avary _- thank you! that meant a lot :)  
_miss dory _- wow, thanks for all those ideas! your imagination is great. I wish I could've used all your plot ideas. anyway, no worries, this will be a happy ending ;) well, in my eyes at least. haha and a sequel is never out of the question!  
_Champers - _yee thank you! I hope it will be dramatic, too ;)  
_BluEyes - _ahh, I totally know what you mean - married Chandler is hard to corrupt, haha! :) next two chapters might be painful to read, but I promise it'll all work out.. for everyone? hehe, who knows!  
_Laurie M - _you must be psychic, because - you can, indeed!  
_randler x - _thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed. I hope the ending is happy too! and you're definitely not the only one who loves Randler ;)  
_BundyShoes - _thanks! as for what happened in Season 9 - Joey was the one who crashed the convention with Rachel, and Rachel was the one who told Joey how she felt about her. haha! and the Phoebe/Mike and Charlie/Ross also happened. :)

Onwards to the chapter!

* * *

It'd been a long time since Chandler had done any form of exercising beyond taking the stairs at work when the elevator was too slow, or prying Joey out of whatever he had gotten himself stuck in that day. So it didn't come as much of a surprise when he found himself wheezing and aching after three laps of freestyle in the hotel pool. (Which was beautiful, in any case – that night, it was surrounded by small, glowing lights, white beach chairs underneath a gazebo, and looming trees around its perimeter.)

On his fourth lap back to the shallow end of the pool, Chandler decided to switch from the slightly more demanding freestyle to a lazier breaststroke. Swimming had been therapeutic – the warm night air, damp smell of chlorine, and cool water cutting through his strokes helped clear his head. Relaxing on the step in front of the strongest water jet didn't hurt, either.

Chandler kicked, feeling the calming rush of water over his back. _You know, maybe that was the best way to leave things with Rachel for now, _he mused, trying to feel optimistic as he floated comfortably in mid-stroke. _I mean, it was hard, sure – but we both know it was best to quit cold turkey before it got too serious. And it's so touching that Rachel was so faithful to Monica, selflessly putting her friend's feelings before her own. _

_Yeah… maybe this all worked out perfectly. _

His head broke through the surface of the water in a splash, immediately greeted by both the return of oxygen and – more surprisingly – a pair of sandals.

More specifically, female sandals.

Chandler had an extremely limited idea of what constituted fashion, but he could put money on the fact that these were very expensive and nice sandals.

Disoriented, he slowly directed his gaze upward. The sandals, it turned out, belonged to a pair of nice feet, followed by a pair of bare, tanned legs, an oversized white pullover, and lastly, a beautiful face covered with wispy blond bangs and trembling lips.

Chandler stood there in silent surprise, until the half of his body above water started to feel cold. It was completely quiet except for the chirping crickets and the sound of water splashing along the sides of the pool. He felt rooted to his spot as he stared up at the dark figure.

"Rach." His voice came out flat, but just the one syllable was heavy with unspoken emotion. Questioning. Warning. Longing. "I can't believe you came."

Rachel shook her head lightly – as if she herself were even wondering how she'd gotten there. She gave a small tearful smile and exhaled shakily,

"I missed my exit."

* * *

Chandler grasped the railing and slowly climbed out of the pool, step by step, afraid to break eye contact with Rachel lest she disappear if he blinked. In this manner, he quickly pulled on his shirt. It soaked through immediately.

He couldn't believe this was happening. His heart thudded against his ribcage in anticipation, feeling the way one would feel right before he knew something really _big_ was about to happen. It was always the uncertainty over whether it'd be good or bad and how to compose oneself. Knowing that every step took one closer to the resolution. That it was inevitably going to happen.

"So." Chandler finally spoke, hands buried in the pockets of his trunks. "What did you – why – I mean, what made you –" He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Don't say anything." Rachel still had that sad smile playing across her lips. "I've been thinking for hours. Just listen."

He nodded.

She took a deep breath and continued, "Do you remember what I said that day? About Barry?"

Chandler didn't need clarification. About what day, or about what she had said about Barry. "I remember." He heard her 23-year-old voice as clear as if it were yesterday – "_The idea of Barry for the rest of my life – I don't know… I feel like I need to have one last _fling_, you know, just to get it out of my system. I'm serious! I just need to have some meaningless _sex."

"I was engaged then."

"I know."

They were entering dangerous territory, once again. 'The Line' hovered between them, wobbly and tantalizing, re-drawing itself closer and closer to their feet in hopes that one of them would take the first step to cross it.

"It wouldn't have been wrong."

"It wouldn't have been right."

"Barry would've understood."

"Barry slept with your _bridesmaid_. This is Monica we're talking about."

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, as if conceding a good point. Finally, she sighed, "Look, I know this isn't… ideal, Chandler." She placed a hand on his forearm, but Chandler pulled away. He couldn't handle her touch yet. _Not just yet._

Rachel noticed this and folded her arms. "I know there's a lot at risk here," she tried again. Chandler's reluctance seemed to fill her with a renewed sense of fervor. "But I just couldn't – I didn't want to make this mistake again. I chose not to go back to you ten years ago, and look what it's done to us. All the unresolved would've could've-s? I couldn't make the same mistake again. We could've been together right now if I had turned the car around ten years ago."

There was silence.

"I did this for _me_," Rachel continued, voice growing stronger with each passing word. "I didn't want to walk away today and spend the next few years wondering what could've happened if I had gone back. But you need to decide on your own what you want to do. I'm not going to talk you into making a decision or try to make it for you. All I'm going to do is let you know that I'm here for you. I don't care if you need me or tell me to walk away. I've done my part now; I can live with myself. If you tell me to go, I'll do it." Her eyes were shiny with tears. "You just say the word. Say the word, Chandler, and I'll turn around and leave."

Chandler swallowed. Rachel was holding her breath, waiting for an answer from the person she had just spilled the entire contents of her heart to. He'd made up his mind a long time ago.

He closed the distance between them, watching Rachel's face change as he did so – from challenging to anxious to surprised. One arm reached for her shoulder and the other wrapped around her waist. They both came together so perfectly, so warmly – like puzzle pieces finally reunited after being on the opposite sides of the table for so long. _Friends on opposite sides of the armchair. _

But they were together now. So close that Chandler didn't want to let go. So close that he could feel Rachel's breath warm the cold, wet spots of his drenched shirt and send his nerves singing. So close that if he shut his eyes, he couldn't tell where he ended and she began. So close that if he turned his face slightly, he could brush aside her hair and cover the crook of her neck with soft kisses.

"I don't think I could stand," Chandler murmured into her hair, "ever having to say goodbye to you again."

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! I'm still nervous about this one, so feel free to let me know what you thought :) Thanks so much for reading, and I'll update ASAP!


	9. Elephant in the Room

(A/N) hello all; BIG updates! first of all, sorry for the late-ish update - physics midterm kept me busy most of the week (yet I still bombed - doesn't that always happen? don't know why I'm a science major when I despise it! haha)  
Secondly, I decided to go ahead and post the last chapter along with this one - hear me out! lol. I thought about it, and I realized leaving this chapter as so may leave some people uneasy or give others the wrong idea about where the last chapter will go... so yeah. Hope this double-post doesn't make anyone too sad (except for me! I'm devastated at not getting to write this anymore haha.)  
Thirdly, thank yous to elizzabethavary, BluEyes, Champers, randler x, missdory, friendsfan101, BundyShoes, Laurie M (yay, you got that line! haha, I was wondering if it was too much of a stretch), and i-am-kelly! Your encouragement is so appreciated. Also, thank yous to those who have read this since the beginning chapter. It really means a lot to me :)

Now, onwards!

* * *

A short while later (and as time lost meaning for both, neither could say exactly how much time it was), Rachel and Chandler found themselves nestled in each other's arms on one of the pull-out beach chairs by the illuminated pool. Just sitting, enjoying each other's company – needing nothing else to be as blissful as they were then.

It felt familiar, as they had sat in that position many times in the past. In the past, however, there'd been inhibition – they'd both face forward, Chandler would only drape one arm lightly around her, or Rachel would keep both hands folded in her lap.

But now? Now was different. Now there was no inhibition whatsoever. Their faces touched, their hands were free, and every so often, they would surprise one another with a kiss ranging from light and sweet to urgent and heated. And kissing Rachel? Even better than Chandler remembered.

_Yep, this part is new, _Chandler thought with an amused smile, as Rachel bit softly on his ear. In every way, being with her was half familiar and half uncharted territory. It was comfortable, yet exciting. An absolutely perfect combination.

"Wait." Rachel suddenly pulled away, leaving Chandler mid-kiss. His lips were still comically puckered, eyes still closed.

"Chandler… before we go any further, can we address the elephant in the room?"

"No one's called Monica that since high school."

A disapproving glare. "You know what I mean."

"Ah, do we really have to?"

Rachel softened a bit and placed a hand on his cheek. "Yes. We both know this is just a one-time thing, right? Just to get it out of our systems? You have to promise me this won't mean anything to you."

"One time thing. System. Means nothing. Yep," he repeated, hoping that the faster this discussion went, the faster they could return to more enjoyable activities. "Now do that thing with your tongue."

"Chandler." Rachel's voice was tinged with warning.

He sighed and finally sat up in his seat. He looked Rachel in the eye and said, "Fine. Yes. I promise. Trust me."

And it was the truth. _One last fling, just to get it out of my system. Just some meaningless sex_.

Chandler had known all along that he wasn't going to sleep with Rachel. He couldn't even bring himself to think about it (well, that was a lie – he'd definitely _thought_ about it. In detail. But not the idea in general) without feeling sick to his stomach. There was no way he could go through with it.

For one, oh hey, he was _married._ To a woman he loved deeply back at home.

Also, this was _Rachel. _One of his oldest friends, Rachel. Sure, they just happened to be insanely compatible, but he still couldn't bring himself to do that to her or to Ross (who, despite being with Charlie at the moment, would probably still kick Chandler's ass if he found out).

Mostly, Chandler couldn't think about sleeping with her because there just seemed to be such a… _finality _to it_. _Sex always seemed like the closure to, or at least the line between innocent fling and questionable relationship. Even in movies and books, it seemed to be the climax (no pun intended)of a couple's time together. The final stretch. Best it was going to get. There was nothing left in a relationship to build up to afterwards.

And Chandler couldn't bear the thought of ending what he had with Rachel any sooner than he had to.

_And it's not going to be meaningless, _he thought, as he lost himself in Rachel's eyes. There was no way it could be. It was _Rachel_. He would always love her, be it platonic or otherwise.

"Okay," Rachel relented with a sweet smile, placing her lips against his so softly that it took every ounce of restraint in his body for Chandler not to jump on her. She tortured him for a while with tiny, almost nonexistent kisses along his jaw line before she pulled away again.

"Chandler?"

He could've screamed. "For the love of God, what _is_ it?"

Rachel laughed as she shifted in her seat to lay her head upon his chest. She ran her hand in a friendly fashion across his torso, underneath his still-wet shirt. "Tell me," she murmured, "why we'd be good together."

A smirk. "Is this your idea of dirty talk?"

"No." A smile and a shrug. "I just – want to hear you tell me."

Chandler found himself smiling back in spite of himself. He couldn't stop smiling, actually. The whole night had been so unbelievable, like something out of a movie. He never wanted it to end.

"Well, all right, then. Let's see." He repositioned himself so he had one arm clasped more comfortably around Rachel and she curled her legs to her chest. "You're funny."

"Huh."

Noticing Rachel's doubtful expression, Chandler clarified, "Not stupid funny or unintentionally funny like the others. You're clever funny. Sharp. Witty. And you don't even realize it sometimes." He squeezed her waist. "I respect that."

"Aw."

"Well, by respect it, I mean it really turns me on."

Rachel laughed. "Go on."

"Okay." Chandler thought about it. "We're the only two who wear suits to work."

"Well technically, Ralph Lauren lets me wear business casual."

"… Those bitches."

"It's okay," Rachel laughed and leaned in near his ear. "To be honest, I've always loved seeing you in your suit and tie. Something about it… makes me so hot."

Chandler raised his eyebrows. "All right, well _that_ does it. I'm officially throwing out everything else I own."

"Oh, stop." Rachel patted him lightly. "What else?"

"Okay. I love how I feel when I'm with you. Relaxed. Easy."

"Mm."

"You're kind…" Chandler kissed her once on the top of her head – "dedicated…" – her forehead – "sweet…" – cheek – "caring…" – other cheek. "…beautiful." – at last, one softly on her lips.

"Okay, stop," Rachel grinned against Chandler's lips. This time, she deepened the kiss herself, running her hands from the base of his neck into his hair.

_Yeah, it's not going to be meaningless, _Chandler thought, pulling her even closer against him. But he had to try to make it as meaningless as possible.

For Monica – he would have to try.

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Usually here, I would tell you I'll update soon - but go ahead and read the final chapter! :)


	10. Handle

_Six letter word for 'deal with'. _Chandler tapped the end of his ballpoint pen loudly against the Central Perk table. The quick staccato beat elicited dirty looks from the couple at the table across the room.

"Oh, deal with it." He pulled a face at them. "And then if you could give me a six letter word for what you're doing, that'd be great."

Joey returned from the counter and handed Chandler a drink. "Here, man, I got you your latte." He set his own cup down and took a seat on the couch.

"Thanks." Chandler ignored the scalding temperature and took a sip. "So, do you have any plans for tonight? I was thinking of catching a movie."

"Ah sorry, can't. I have a date."

"Another one?" Chandler tried to hide his surprise. "Things going well with you and High School Grad, then?"

Joey was confused. "You mean What's-Her-Face? I never even called her back."

"Ah, her. Shame, I liked her _so_ much better than What's-Her-_Name._"

Joey missed the thinly veiled jab and continued, "No, I'm meeting this girl, Katie, who I met in Barbados. After you left to go swimming on the last night, I went down to the bar, and Katie was there. She said her boyfriend had just dumped her and that she was there with her friends from New York on vacation. I think I helped her get over her boyfriend pretty well, if I do say so myself. Eh?" He offered a mega-watt grin.

"Good for you, Joe," Chandler replied, meaning it. "Why didn't you tell me on the plane?"

"You were looking pretty down, so I decided to just wait until we got home. Figured you were just homesick or something."

_Homesick. _"Right." No need to explain that the reason he'd looked so down was exactly that – that they were going home. True, after the whole Rachel tryst, he now felt lighter than ever… but it wasn't without hours of gut-wrenching despair and self-therapy. Chandler had promised Rachel that it wasn't going to mean anything, but it was easier said than done. _Way easier._

Chandler also didn't bring up the hours he'd spent packing and re-packing the same sock, distracted mind turning in circles – debating just saying 'fuck it all' to his marriage, his better judgment, and his promise – and dropping everything and running back to Rachel.

But he didn't.

And he'd never tell anyone, but he was incredibly proud of the fact. He loved his wife – her laugh, her hair, the way she left his notes on post-its in his briefcase before he went to work, the way she put on hand sanitizer after turning off the lights and before kissing him good-night.

Yes, Chandler Bing loved Monica Geller – and giving up and getting over perfect Rachel Green was the right (if not sacrificial) thing to do. That was what married men did.

And okay, so Chandler had wavered a bit on the way to learning his lesson – but the important thing was that he _had_ learned it, and his relationship with Monica had emerged stronger than ever. If what happened with Rachel was what it took to open his eyes, then fine. He'd ended up in the right place. The right mind.

"So how was your night?" Joey asked, cutting into Chandler's tumultuous thoughts. "I saw you and Rachel in the pool."

Chandler froze, cold sweat immediately breaking out over his body. _How?…_

His mind raced, remembering the smooth resistance of water against his back as Rachel's lips found his underwater, how she had laughed when they landed against the water jets along the side, how he had twirled the strings of her swimsuit around his finger but never pulled. How they had sat together on the step in the corner of the shallow end when they were afraid of leaving the pool – and the night – behind.

"Joey," Chandler stammered. "I can explain –"

"I'm glad she decided to go swimming with you. I was feeling kind of bad that I didn't go with you when you asked."

"Oh."

"Sorry, man."

"Oh, that's okay." Chandler tried very hard not to move his face a millimeter or audibly sigh in relief. "I'm just glad we all, uh, had fun."

Thankfully, the arrival of the three girls from a shopping trip truncated that conversation. At once, the Central Perk couch was filled with girly chatter and the rustle of shopping bags.

Phoebe plopped herself down in the middle of the couch, relaying a detailed account of her purchases that day. Monica, who seemed more cheerful than she'd been in a while, gave Chandler a kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the couch closest to his round table. Rachel, as she was carrying the most bags out of the three, sat down at the single armchair opposite the table.

She noticed Chandler watching her and gave him a small smile. He smiled back.

"- And then she gave me these cute fisherman's outfits for half off!" Phoebe was saying happily, holding up three matching vests and hats in plastic bags. "Frank and the triplets are going to love these!"

The outfits came with plush fish and twine fishing rods, which made it plainly obvious to Chandler that they were most likely made for those Build-A-Bear type toys and not children. He wasn't sure what to say; he didn't want to be the one who burst Phoebe's bubble.

Luckily, Rachel had just noticed the same thing. "Uh, Pheebs?" she started. "Yeah, I don't think those are made for kids. I think those are teddy bear clothes."

"What do you mean?" Phoebe retorted incredulously. "What kind of kid wouldn't want to be dressed as a fisherman?"

"Uh, every kid north of New Orleans."

Chandler laughed. Rachel looked surprised, then smiled.

"Oh, whatever," Phoebe shrugged, dumping the clothes back into her bag. "Frank won't know the difference. I once gave him those little shampoo bottles from a hotel and convinced him that they sold those specifically for little people like children."

They all chatted for a while longer before Monica remembered, "Oh right! How was Barbados?" She addressed the group, but reached to place a hand on Chandler's knee. Then she grinned to let them know that she was okay with having missed out. "Tell me everything."

For the briefest sliver of a millisecond, Chandler and Rachel exchanged loaded glances. It passed, and Chandler's heart resumed beating. But he had some time to compose himself, as Phoebe began gushing about Mike's ping-pong skills – which inevitably led to an explanation about leaving David – which inevitably led to Joey cutting in about Ross and Charlie – which inevitably led to the introduction of Katie.

"Chandler?" Monica turned to him after taking in all that. "How about you? Although Pheebs and Joey have probably given me enough dirt to write a book."

He cleared his throat. "It was fun," he responded carefully. "I needed it. Ross's speech was good. I… learned a lot this weekend." _About myself, about us. _He didn't clarify. He let her think he'd learned a lot about fossils and carbon dating. It didn't matter.

What Chandler _did_ add was, "But I missed you. So much." It was the truth. He smiled as Monica squeezed his knee and smiled back. Boldly, he risked a glance across the room at Rachel. She was smiling, too; a light, relieved smile, but it was there nonetheless.

"Oh." Chandler consulted his watch and quickly slurped the last of his coffee. "Gotta run, I promised I'd pick up some sample boxes for our latest campaign." He stood up and gave Monica a quick kiss on the cheek before saying, "I'll see you at dinner." These familiar actions comforted him somehow, and made him feel normal again.

"Ooh, I gotta go too," Rachel said, collecting her carrier bags around her wrist before standing. "I'm always afraid to leave Emma alone with Ross for too long; if her first word is Brontosaurus, the next thing to go extinct will be Ross's lecture notes." She stepped over Joey's feet and bid everyone goodbye.

Chandler and Rachel met at the door. They reached for the knob at the same time.

"Go ahead –"

"Oops, you can –"

They both laughed, two sharp exhalations heavy with something deeper than an awkward door moment.

Chandler pushed it open and held it, gesturing Rachel to go first with a chivalrous sweep of his arm.

She snorted and they both stepped outside into the crisp New York afternoon.

"Well… I'm this way," Chandler jerked a thumb to the left. "See you at home." He smiled and turned to leave, but Rachel's voice stopped him.

"Chandler, wait."

He slowly turned back to face her, praying that she was just stopping him to remind him about the Knicks game or tell him that his shoe was untied. _Please, please, please. _He wasn't angry, but he felt as if he would be if she were to say anything to unearth the emotions that he'd just worked so hard to suppress. _I just got over this, _he thought, gritting his teeth and bracing himself.

But luckily, his anxiety was unwarranted.

Rachel was smiling slightly, all her carrier bags still dangling from one extended forearm. Her other hand shielded her eyes from the setting sun. "We're cool, right?"

That was it.

_We're cool, right?_

Three easy words that seemed to cut through everything they'd been through the past month and wiped them clean.

And, as if someone had pressed a big rewind button on his life, Chandler saw those recent events whirl by in double speed - the excruciating final good night, the kisses, the warm water, the surrender, seeing Rachel standing by the pool waiting for him, closing the door behind him, the confrontation, flirting in Barbados, the confusion, the hugs, the denial, the tentative kiss, the coworker's mistake, the Central Perk receipt and the pacifier, and finally – waking up in Rachel's lap in Central Park.

_Pause._

Here, Chandler briefly hesitated over the metaphorical record button, but braced himself and pressed it – hard, before he could change his mind._ Whatever may have happened then, I'm recording over it. We're starting over now. _

He smiled, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Yeah. We're cool."

"Okay." Rachel exhaled with a smile. "Okay."

They both shuffled their feet awkwardly for a while and glanced at their watch, the sky, the ground – anywhere but at each other.

Finally, Chandler broke the silence by extending his arms. The corners of Rachel's lips curled upwards and she walked towards him as a thirsty girl might approach a lemonade stand. They collided in an almost rough side-hug, but they still found comfort in each other's arms.

"Mm, nice suit and tie," Rachel boldly joked, smirking.

They chuckled, tentative at first, but then freely. Chandler gave Rachel a small peck on the forehead before they broke apart and bid goodbye.

Deep down, Chandler knew that there would never come a day when he would stop caring for Rachel. She was his friend, she was an amazing person, and she meant a lot to him. But while you may never stop caring for someone, you can find someone you care about more. Indeed, Chandler cared about Monica in a wholly different way – as his wife, with love and loyalty.

And if one day in the future, Monica were to ask him about what really happened in Barbados, he would tell her. The truth – that it was a time before he was emotionally experienced enough to understand the lessons he'd recently learned.

Chandler watched Rachel go – all the way until she reached the corner and disappeared around it. Soon enough, there were only the wrinkles in his pants where a Bloomingdales bag had hit him to prove that Rachel had ever been there.

_We're cool. We're okay. _Chandler repeated to himself._ I can handle this._

He took a step in the opposite direction, then stopped, as if suddenly remembering something. A grin slowly broke out on his face. He felt like laughing. Dancing.

_A six- letter word for 'deal with'._

Chandler fished out his crumpled crossword from his pocket and grinned.

_Handle. _

* * *

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it - all of it! Thank yous to those who have stuck with me and offered encouraging words since the beginning. As always, feel free to let me know anything/everything you thought. And as always - thank you so much for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed reading this fic, because I really loved writing every chapter! :) 3


End file.
